Monday, February 11, 2019



i picked up these matches 
before i knew they were matches
when i picked them up
i thought they looked like little wooden
head wings

once i put a candle
on mister's head in the tunnel
the flame wavered 
toward the light

i thought of
the poem about matches
with type like megaphone 
saying we will match you in
your matchless world

once you see a match
everywhere you look
there are matches 

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